


Where Love Leads Us

by Quercusrobur



Series: Sun In My Sky [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-03 08:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17280491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quercusrobur/pseuds/Quercusrobur
Summary: How Jack met River. And maybe, why he didn't punch the Doctor in the Stolen Earth.Prequel toFire the Crucible. Takes place after Exit Wounds for Jack, and late in River's timeline.





	Where Love Leads Us

He had turned around and there she was, unapologetically taking up space on his roof, in his city, in his grief. He is getting the feeling, watching her, that _unapologetically_ is a common descriptor of her actions; nothing overt, just the way she is.

“It's a bad time, I know,” she calls over the wind, “but when isn't?”

Jack had been trying to decide between charming and threatening, but she doesn’t sound like someone it would do any good to threaten. Or possibly charm, either. “I don't know you.” As he steps nearer, the dissipating smell of ozone hits him. Tick off two suspicions, then: vortex manipulator, and time traveler, even if she's no Time Agent he has ever met. “Fancy wristwatch you've got there.” In fact it is on a strap that looks a lot like his own.

“River Song. And it's a long story,” she says wryly. “But I know you, Captain Jack Harkness.” His hand twitches, and she holds hers up placatingly, empty. “Just here to talk. That sideways glare is surprisingly effective. Never been on this end of it before.” She is turning her head to keep him in view as he circles her.

Infuriating as she is, her smile is fond, and Jack throws up his hands. “Fine, alright, what do you want, River Song?” It is a bad time, but she's right, it's always a bad time anymore. Now that they are down to three it seems there is barely time to breathe, much less grieve. He and Ianto bury their sorrows in each other, or elsewhere when they can't stand each other anymore, and Gwen goes home to Rhys; and then they come back, every day, day after day, and there is always something else.

It is never any sort of start. Just… going on.

And now this, whatever _this_ is.

“Buy you a drink?” she offers, and Jack frowns.

“Didn't you catch me up here to avoid cameras? It's not like I could stop you just appearing in my office.” Although he would probably have shot her, if she had. The open air above Cardiff takes the edge off just enough.

The improbably named woman shakes her head, setting the wild mass of curls bobbing, and Jack suddenly wants nothing more than to bury his hands in that mane and forget everything, just for a while. “You said it would be a mistake, invading the Hub.”

“Deadly, probably, at the moment,” Jack agrees absently, having trouble tearing his eyes away from her glorious hair. But now she’s smirking knowingly at him, and it is teeth-grindingly irritating because _he doesn't know_ what she knows. “What else did I say?”

“Spoilers,” she says sweetly, with a solid helping of bedroom eyes that isn’t helping, damnit.

Stepping back with a glare, Jack predicts, “ _That_ is going to get annoying.”

“So I've heard. I live to intrigue.” Jack opens his mouth and she adds briskly, “Or infuriate, if you must. Very well, on the roof it is. How long since you've seen him?”

His mouth is still open, Jack realises after a long moment; he shuts it with click. After all, out of all the possible choices in all the worlds that have ever been or ever will be… there is only one _him_ Jack can imagine her meaning. “The Doctor,” he says flatly, and she nods. “Who's asking?”

“I am,” she replies gently. “Which doesn't answer your question, I know. But I need to know if I got the timing right. The last time you saw him, he dropped you off here after the year on the Valiant?” Jack nods, cautiously, and she takes a breath. “Okay. Then it’s just… he's a right arse about you this time around, but he won't always be that way. Please don't give up on him.”

“I'm not that -” Jack starts, insulted, then realises. “Oh. Going to keep it up for a while, then?”

“It's a long wait. If I loved you, Jack, I'd tell you to forget him,” River says sadly. “But I'm sorry, I love him more, so please, please don't. Not ever.”

Wariness discarded, Jack steps forward and gathers her into his arms. “That's alright. I love him more, too.”

“I know, honey.” Her arms go around him with no hesitation and he lays his face against that delightful hair, refuses to think about all the pain to come implied by her words, about what a request of _not ever_ might mean when asked of him. “Buy you that drink now?”

Jack chuckles. “To the future? Not my usual toast.”

“Nor mine,” and there is a lot more there she's not saying, Jack can tell. “To change,” she offers instead, “and living through it.”

“That's my specialty,” he says, mood somewhat soured again.

“I know,” River whispers, tucked up against his chest like she belongs there. “I'm sorry.”

-+-+-+-

 


End file.
